Author's Note: As per usual, we're going to do the first act here and the second act in the next chapter. All songs will be mentioned, so if you're interested in looking up getting an idea of what they sound like you're more than welcome to. Nevertheless, only a majority will be written out so as to avoid overwhelm.
These are the songs that'll be officially "sung" in the first half. Just like before, it'll be "Song" / Show / "Keywords to find it" ––
"When I Grow Up" / Matilda / "Matilda - When I Grow Up with lyrics"
"Holding Out For a Hero" / Footloose / "Holding Out For a Hero - Footloose the Musical"
"Once" Medley / Once / "WHS Chorus - Once Medley 1. Falling Slowly 2. When Your Minds Made Up - 4/2/2015"
"Into the Woods" Medley / Into the Woods /
"I Won't Send Roses" / Mack and Mabel / "Watch Brian Stokes Mitchell's Soaring Rendition of 'I Won't Send Roses' from MACK & MABEL)"
"I Could Have Danced All Night" / My Fair Lady / "I Could Have Danced All Night - Hywel Choir / Angelicus"
"(You're Not Sick) You're Just in Love" / Call Me Madame / "You're Not Sick You're Just In Love"
"You'll Never Walk Alone" / Carousel / "Only Boys Aloud - You'll Never Walk Alone"
"One Day More" / Les Misérables / "Les Miserables Live- One Day More"
For the remaining Act I songs, I'll be including those in the second author's note at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to the musicals/songs referenced in both this and the following chapter. Nor do I own Downton Abbey.
Decor Disclaimer: The description of the choir rooms, specifically 403, have been inspired by real choir rooms. But any description given here does not match the true sentiment of the room. You'll see what I mean when we get there.
And, now, without further ado, the last show in the series has arrived! Enjoy!
_._
Friday, the 8th of May, 2020
6:57 p.m.
Chatter of all kinds blanketed the air as the young woman made her way down a hallway filled with supporters and students alike. The sound of voices twirling through conversations of all sorts lingered, the level of enthusiasm informing her that everyone was excited for the show.
Oh, who was she kidding? Linda Vance knew that everyone was thrilled for tonight's performance! And, yes, that included the students who hailed from other schools and members of the community who'd never come to a show before. Yup, every soul here was ready to support the choirs tonight, giving the teaching assistant the confidence to walk with pride.
If only she wasn't trailing behind, probably five seconds from piping up and inserting herself into this lovely scene. Linda had heard her the moment she'd stepped into the building, a weariness threatening to distort the sweet atmosphere.
"Oh, Miss Vance," Knew it. "There you are! I was looking all over for you!"
The teaching assistant shoved back her scowl, forced herself to remember she'd no longer be working with Alice after tonight, and cheerfully turned around.
"Miss Neal!" Being but a mere assistant –– Alice's words, not hers –– Linda was content to remain formal in her tone. Especially once the woman demanded it. "And will Mr. Grigg be joining us this evening?"
_._
6:59 p.m.
Alice Neal had never been impressed by Vance. The only reason that she'd approached the woman before the show was because it would suit her plan wonderfully.
"Charlie said he had a few more things to take care of at the school, he's right behind me." Alice informed her, willing to rile her up before officially going through with her plan. "Though, speaking of Charlie –– Charlie Carson, that is –– I couldn't believe that video when I saw it! I was there when it'd all happen, of course, but to be reminded of it all was simply astonishing!"
"I can only imagine."
"Oh, that's right –– you weren't even alive then, were you?" As she suspected, Vance took offense to hearing her lack of experience subtly referenced. It was too easy winding the woman up, but it was a treat to watch her composure start to vanish.
"Yes, well," Whatever the assistant had to say next, the teacher was sure it'd be a treat to respond.
"Pardon me, but," She turned toward the unfamiliar voice, vaguely recognizing the boy. He was in that horrid octet, the Carlisle-Downton combination that was doomed to fail. Collin something or other. "You are Alice Neal –– the Lark of Song, right?"
He should've known that fact by now, considering she'd helped that stupid octet days ago. But, seeing as how the boy looked so starstruck, she could forgive him that.
"Well now," That Linda Vance was still in earshot, having been unable to escape, was only the icing on the cake. "It's about time someone around here demonstrated refinement. I am, indeed."
"It's an honour!" The student replied, oblivious to the trouble he unwittingly stirred up. Vance was becoming irritated with the compliments and the awe, something that only gave Alice more pleasure. "Any chance I can help you get settled? Get you some water or something?"
"I really don't think that's necessary." Alice inwardly snickered at the assistant's growing ire, basking in the attention.
"Please," A new voice, a charming voice, came out of nowhere. "Allow me the honour of taking your coat, Miss Neal."
The choir teacher didn't have to plaster a smile on as she turned to the young man now offering his assistance. She remembered him at once, delightfully pleased by his manners. He was the lead in that octet, a handsome teenager she had no problem conceding her coat to.
"Miss Vance, I'm impressed by the manner of Charlie's students." Her perky tone brightened as she caught Vance's scowl deepen, her own smile widening. "I really shouldn't be surprised, having known him for years. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I realize that it was only last year any trouble ever came to Downton. I'd never want to point fingers or anything, but I really do believe that Mrs. Hughes has inspired a certain change in attitude––"
"Shall I take you to your dress, Miss Neal?"
Alice inwardly smirked, aware that the scathing remark had landed as she intended. She knew the assistant was seconds away from exploding, just like she planned.
"Ah, yes, my dress. Waiting for me along with all those endearing wedding decorations. Aren't they all so quaint?"
This was really quite the treat! Little Miss Linda Vance was seconds away from causing an unforgettable scene in front of all these lovely families –– ensuring that the teaching assistant gained the disapproval of many. Something that would undoubtedly hurt poor Downton's reputation as well as the choirs.
"Actually,"
Please, prove my point. Show how tactless this school really is. Not only would it cause a scene that would have to involve Charlie, the person she really wanted to take her to her dress, it would possibly be enough to remove Vance from the show. Something that would be positively devastating for the group and prove how incompetent Elsie Hughes really was.
After all, a cappella was the woman's specialty. It didn't matter who officially suggested the idea for the teachers to perform together; everyone would associate Hughes with it because she never shut up about such things. So if the group couldn't perform at the last second, the woman would shoulder all the blame.
"Oh, Miss Vance," Alice bit back her own scowl, turning to the stupid girl who dared to barge in on an important moment, "May I borrow you for a moment?"
"What's wrong, Anna?"
"Well, I only wanted to know––" Alice cleared her throat in an effort to put a stop to this trivial conversation, succeeding in seconds. Her smile only widened at the sight of the teaching assistant tensing up, no doubt finally about to send off an acerbic tirade worthy of removal.
"Perhaps I can take Miss Neal to her dress, Miss Vance. It's upstairs, right?" Now that was disappointing! That starstruck student from before was now offering to help!
How dare he ruin her plans!
Still, it would be easy enough to ditch the boy.
Which meant she would have just enough time to come up with something perfect for everything she'd had to put up with this last year.
Her mind made up, Alice turned away from the teaching assistant and the students, impatiently waiting to be taken upstairs. The sooner she ditched him, the sooner she could come up with something perfect.
"That would be perfect, Connor." He nodded, ever the respectful student. "And, yes, in the closet of 403. You'll have to go up those stairs. The closet should still be unlocked and open."
The teacher hadn't caught a word of that exchange, only paying attention when Collin rejoined her: "It really is quite an honour to meet the Lark of Song after all this time."
"Oh, a fan, are you?" Gay, too, if you know me by that name.
"My mum listens to your recordings whenever she can." The boy confessed with a small smile, clearly abashed. "If you'll follow me."
"That's nice." She could make small-talk with a fan, it was easy enough. Better yet, the boy would be filled with enough awe that he would let Alice slip into 403 unaccompanied.
Yes, this would all work out perfectly.
Except for the fact that he apparently forgot where the room was. And he'd nearly taken them up the wrong stairwell. And then he proceeded to start conversing with another student, embarrassed when she reminded him of their task.
When they finally made it to the second fourth floor –– apparently, there were two fourth floors, if you can believe it! –– Alice was ready to scream. That journey had been more irritating to endure than her first meeting with Elsie Hughes.
Suffice it to say, she would be eager to be rid of Collin and be done with the whole thing. His detours had done little to help her concoct another plan. And now they only had twenty minutes at most before the show!
"There you are, Connor! I've been looking for you everywhere!" At least Alice didn't have to supply an excuse to escape! Some poor, pathetic soul was gasping for air, having arrived through the other stairwell maybe seconds after they'd arrived. Probably ran the whole way up, if she were to guess.
"If you'll excuse me, Miss Neal," Collin, Connor, whatever his name was, bashfully stated, glancing at the student, "I think Joseph needs me."
Alice's hand was already on the door to 403, shooing both boys away: "No worries, dearie! I can always find my way back!"
They smiled in appreciation, giving a friendly wave that she echoed with little effort. And, closing the door behind her once the two started to leave the floor, she waited until the sounds of conversation disappeared. Once that occurred, she re-opened the door, letting her ears confirm what she already knew.
She was now the only person on the floor.
Finally! Alice thought to herself once she was left alone. Without another word, she stepped further into the room –– rolling her eyes at how long it'd taken this long for that student to bring her up here. Honestly, whoever it had been, why had it taken them all that time to figure out how to get up here? As a Downton student, it was ridiculous how much time they'd wasted getting lost in the school!
Whatever. Further proof Downton's filled with idiots.
Now… it was time to come up with a new plan.
Walking up to the closet, she poked her head in to confirm that her costume remained intact. Smirking in glee at the sight of pearl white lace blending into cotton so beautifully, she admired its beautiful layers. It was so voluminous it obscured the decorations, allowing her to pretend as though that ridiculous wedding wasn't a month away.
Honestly, she could admire the gown for an age and then some.
If only her original plan hadn't been ruined.
Then she might've had a real chance to do just that.
Stepping out of the closet and scanning about the room, having never paid much attention to this part of Downton Academy, Alice took a moment to critique it. She knew in her gut that this had to be Hughes' room. Not only was this the smaller of the two choir rooms, this one was a lot shabbier. Nothing like her own rooms, of course! Her rooms back at The Center were far more pristine in their conditions. None of these worn-out squeaky floorboards, faded chairs that have definitely seen better days, or the pathetic off-white wallpaper in need of repair.
And, a chalkboard at the front?
How deliciously tacky!
It was with a sense of vindication that the performer sneered at the surroundings, amused by it all. This set-up was laughably old-fashioned at best! And that was the kindest sentiment she could bestow. This was a room that was truly pitiable and not worthy of her attention.
"How the mighty have fallen." The woman gave a dark snort, knowing there wasn't a lot of time left before she would be needed. The teachers were performing in the second act, true, but her expertise was always required.
Like I said: further proof Downton's filled with idiots. Not Charlie, of course. Charlie was confused about everything, nothing else. And if she'd had her way, she would have been helping him understand that this very second.
But, his absence was fine.
It meant that, seeing as how this was Hughes' room, there would be no one around to stop a little sabotage. Discreetly damaging the property, writing up a scathing message on that ghastly chalkboard, all of these actions could be blamed on a deviant student –– there'd be no need to even think of her.
Stepping in front of the first rows of chairs before her, Alice eyed the room carefully in thought. A vulgar message on the board would be child's play. Cracking a window could do some real damage. But whatever she did, she would have to make sure any permanent damage couldn't be traced back to her.
But what to do?
It would have to be clever. Possibly ruin a wedding sign or three, make the closet look as though it had been destroyed by a teen up to no good. She could even sabotage her own dress a little, ensure no one suspected her of a thing. It would add character to her performance, give her a little more sympathy from the crowd.
Belatedly, her ears caught the sound of someone scrambling into the hallway outside. Not wanting to be discovered lurking here of all places, Alice took the best hiding space in the room and quickly shut the closet door behind her.
Whether it was a student or faculty member, she had no need to be spotted now.
Her actions were perfectly timed, the sound of a petulant teenage boy assaulting the room the second she closed the door.
"Mrs. Hughes? Mr. Carson? My costume for the chorus in 'Seasons of Love's been stolen and Thomas told me you'd be in here to help!"
Alice silently snickered away at the boy's troubles, imagining him to be a snobby sort of character.
"And once again you're not here! Honestly!"
Seconds later, the singer was stomping out of the room, harshly slamming the door shut. Only when he was certainly out of earshot did she let herself properly cackle, enjoying every part of that. It was another mistake on the part of Downton, letting a child's costume get snatched. That it was for Rent of all things was laughable, considering the set-list.
But it wasn't her problem, that was for sure!
"All right. Let's get serious." There was probably only fifteen minutes before the show. And if she wanted a solid alibi, if she wanted it to be pinned on a student instead, she would need to be downstairs in less than five.
It was with a sense of glee that she reached out to grip the doorknob, only to discover there was nothing to grip.
"What?"
Hand skimming the door in the darkness, the woman mercilessly pressed herself up against it to pry the thing open. When it wouldn't budge, she went back to feeling the bloody thing up and figuring out how the hell she was going to get out of this. Letting loose a few curses when nothing worked, her scowl deepened as she put some more effort into shoving the door open.
When that also failed, she went back to searching for the way out –– shrieking when nothing availed itself. How could she be trapped in this bloody closet, locked inside without anyone nearby to call for help?
"You idiot!" Her mobile was perfectly capable of ringing up Charlie and demanding she be let out of here.
There was only one problem.
Her mobile was in her coat pocket, no doubt in the faculty dressing room by this point.
Leaving her stuck in this damn closet with her fantastic dress and–– and a mini-fridge? And were those yoga mats tucked away in the corner? Where were the wedding decorations? The signs, the flowers, where the hell did it all go?
And, more importantly, "What the hell do they get up to here?"
Yoga mats, honestly!
_._
7:12 p.m.
"They weren't there, Jimmy?" Thomas only asked once they'd started back down on the stairs, the baritone the very picture of innocence. "I was sure Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes would be up here!"
"They're never there when I need them!" The tenor wailed away, huffing up a storm as they headed back toward the auditorium. "Every single time I try to ask them a question before a show, they're never around! And this time, it's not even a question! My Rent costume's been stolen!"
"Maybe we should check the dressing rooms again for your costume –– we might've missed it earlier."
"Yeah, well, when it turns out someone stole my costume, there'll be blood!"
Thomas solemnly nodded, inwardly chuckling at the thought of Jimmy trying his hand against Abigail Hankins. Undoubtedly, the Carlisle student had returned the attire in question back to its rightful place –– the young woman clever enough to discreetly handle the situation. But even if Jimmy found out the truth, the baritone had no doubt his peer would lose any fight in a heartbeat.
"C'mon," Thomas said with a glance at his phone, "We've only got less than ten minutes before we'll need to be ready. We'll find out the truth soon enough."
Abigail had done her part, that was for sure. Now it was time for Connor to sneak back up and post a sign on 402 and 403 indicating that –– if one wanted to contact Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes –– they were to go straight to the auditorium.
That would guarantee everyone concluding both classrooms were locked up, leaving the rooms alone.
They would eventually let Alice out. They just figured it would be best if she missed the actual show and didn't have the chance to ruin anything. It also helped that everything of importance had been removed from the closet only yesterday.
Though, really, that part was entirely thanks to Matthew….
_._
Thursday, the 7th of May, 2020
3:50 p.m.
Isobel Crawley felt she always excelled at two things: charitable acts and supporting just causes. So when her son wearily brought up how concerned he was about Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson leaving their precious wedding decorations inside the school when all sorts of things could go wrong, Isobel knew she'd found her calling for the day!
That she was only now hearing of this atrocity made sense –– everyone was terribly busy during the spring, swamped with meetings and the likes. It simply meant that she had even more motivation to fix this whole mess as soon as she could. She could only imagine the numerous awful scenarios that would doubtlessly occur if nothing was done.
And if a trip up to the second fourth floor proved futile, she would go to the next best thing.
"Miss Vance! I was hoping to catch you here." If the teaching assistant couldn't help, no one could. "I've got a question about tomorrow." Isobel paused, knowing that it really wasn't about the concert, "More specifically…"
It had taken her only a minute to coax the young woman into revealing the whole story.
Yes, almost all wedding supplies were in the school. But Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson had already decided to move everything into their flat, having been convinced by Mrs. Patmore and Miss Vance only yesterday. The catch was that the choir teachers had decided to do this after the concert –– something Isobel had deemed much too late for comfort.
"Well, how about right now?"
"I'm sorry?"
"We can take care of everything right now. I'm sure I've enough space in my car."
"But don't we need Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes's permission?"
"Oh, that's easy enough!"
"It is?"
"It is. The real question is if they've already left for the day."
"They should still be going over the sound booth in the auditorium––"
"Perfect! Cora wouldn't have cared, but Violet detests climbing all those stairs."
"'Violet'? 'Cora'?"
"The other members of my Triumvirate," She grinned at Miss Vance's horrified incredulity, "Out of all the names we've been called, that has to be my personal favourite."
"I–– I see." Isobel continued to beam, gesturing at the younger woman to follow her back into the school and sort this out once and for all." Well, who am I to argue?"
"A wise decision, if I do say so myself..."
_._
Friday, the 8th of May, 2020
7:03 p.m.
According to Matthew, his mother had ensured everything of importance was removed from the closet, going so far as to take charge of the process herself. Which led to the octet deciding Baxter's plan about the closet was the best one they had. That they were able to pull it off, mostly thanks to sheer dumb luck, made it even better.
How did such a plan come to life, one might ask?
Well, when Phyllis had heard that other schemes the octet had in mind, her gut said they were all a little extreme and very likely to backfire. So when she heard Mrs. Patmore's slip earlier this week, the woman mentioning how safe 403's closet was, the alto had swiftly pieced the rest of the story together and informed the octet of her idea.
Not everyone thought it an ideal plan, but she argued her point. Being stuck in a closet like 403's was something that could be deemed an honest mistake at the end of the day. And, more importantly, this was something none of the Downton or Carlisle staff could be blamed for: how could they have locked her inside if they were handling pre-concert technicalities with plenty of witnesses around?
It helped that Matthew gave his support, saying he had a plan for ensuring nothing important would be damaged. That spurred Mary on to say that she agreed it was a marvelously simple idea –– which, in turn, brought Penelope to say that she would personally work out the finer details to guarantee its success. So on and so forth, until the entire group became invested in working out the whole thing to the best of their advantage.
_._
7:24 p.m.
Violet Crawley imperiously examined the concert programme before her, looking intent on studying every aspect once again. This semester's show meant a larger programme than normal, not only listing out the set for the entire show but also explaining the backstory behind each piece as well as citing each character involved.
There were the self-explanatory pieces like "You'll Never Walk Alone" from Carousel –– seeing as how it was her personal selection for the show, she needn't review its summary –– as well as "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music. But there were far many more pieces that required explanation.
For instance, this unique song she'd never heard of.
"As We Stumble Along" (as from Drowsy Chaperone)
Words and Music by: Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison
"As We Stumble Along" follows the Man in the Chair as he explains what the real magic behind musicals truly is. In this finale song, he revisits his favourite musical and remembers the inspiring words of the Drowsy Chaperone –– showing audiences everywhere just how musicals can leap to life.
Characters (in Order of Appearance):
Man in the Chair: Evelyn Napier
Maintenance Man: Aaron Avery
Robert Martin: Tony Gillingham
Janet Van de Graaff: Ebony Leigh
George: Joseph Moseley
Feldzieg: Septimus Spratt
Gangsters 1 & 2: Megan Abbott and Gwen Dawson
Mrs. Tottendale: Phyllis Baxter
Underling: Henry Lang
Adolpho: Kemal Pamuk
Kitty: Grace Caldwell
The Drowsy Chaperone: Edith Crawley
Trix the Aviatrix: Laura Foster
Company: The Concert Choir
"'The real magic behind musicals'? 'Musicals can leap to life'?" The administrator regally spoke to her seated companions, arching a disdainful eyebrow at the campy description. Nevertheless, the summary was somewhat tolerable –– at least in comparison to the character names! "Do we know who penned such a fascinating description?"
"I did." Isobel proudly replied, knowing full well how her friend was bound to react. In fact, not that she would ever inform Violet, she'd written every summary knowing full well that the administrator would critique them.
"I suppose you wrote them all, did you?" Really, Violet's wit and cleverness occasionally felt wasted on administrative tasks. A life on the stage or on the silver screen might've been more appropriate for the woman.
Pondering aside, there was really only one response Isobel could give:
"Naturally."
_._
7:27 p.m.
With only a few minutes to spare, there shouldn't be any last-minute issues or concerns. Nothing except for a determination to make sure the show started smoothly. Maybe stage-fright or a touch of nerves, but no unexpected anxiety.
Unfortunately, that was exactly what was going on.
"I know the students support us, but what if everyone else's just here to laugh at me, Elsie?" She should've known that he would still be nervous. Really, she should've had him look at those sign-up sheets earlier because it would have eased his nerves much sooner.
Frankly, if anyone was here to heckle them, it would be a waste of their part. After all, the ticket money would go toward supporting the choirs in fundraising efforts. Moreover, the ushers who had volunteered for the night were all well-trained students who knew how to manage disturbances. Therefore, she didn't see the point in worrying about it.
Mind, she knew it would be an entirely different story if she had been the one flung back into the spotlight. It was only last spring she'd had to suddenly compete with Emma Butte for a job here; she didn't have to try very hard when it came to recalling how stressful that had been.
And she'd been given much more preparation with that than he'd had with this last week.
"Charles,"
"I know, I know–– but what if?" His fiancée sent him another look, but this one was tinged with sympathy. She hadn't been interested in chiding him or teasing his nerves. But if he was this nervous, there was only one thing for it.
"If they laugh, which they won't," Elsie knew he wasn't convinced anything else was possible, but she still held out her hand. "Then I know just what to do."
_._
7:29 p.m.
In Beryl Patmore's opinion, the last twenty-four hours had been a hell of a whirlwind. And the show hadn't even started! Much as she loved to help with these performances, one of these days she would offer to take a backseat.
And just who she was trying to fool?
There were only a few things she lived for: pulling off shows, teaching band, and being with Albert Mason. Oh, and getting her two idiots to recognize their feelings for each other, but was mostly taken care of by this point.
Anyway, she needed to focus. If only to help anyone suffering from stage fright. Seeing as how she, Elsie, and Charles were singing in Act II with the other teachers, May Bird had to be the one who conducted the orchestra and band kids in the pit throughout the show. And, considering that this wasn't actually a band concert, that meant her current job was to provide backstage support for any last minute emergencies.
As of now, they'd been lucky. No surprises, not many tears –– if any, at all. She'd caught wind of someone's costume possibly being stolen, but Phyllis Baxter had personally reassured her that it'd been all taken care of. And seeing as how Baxter was one of the kindest, most honest students in the school, there wasn't much else to do other than nod and thank the Lord nothing had happened.
Which meant that all she needed to do right now was make sure that the Rent soloists were ready to perform. But that'd been easy enough: Isabel, Robert, and Alyssa were all prepared, professional enough to be in their backstage spots ten minutes before they were needed. And since the curtains had already been drawn up, keeping the risers out of sight until after "Seasons of Love", she had nothing to do.
Except watch as the house lights dimmed.
Smiling to herself, she glanced back at the soloists, taking joy in the excitement spilling across their faces. They were good kids and she was pleased to see them have this opportunity.
Turning back to stage, her gasp was overtaken by the ecstatic applause.
Both Elsie and Charles were taking the stage together, the pair walking in front of the edge as the choir director began to turn the soloist's microphone on.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Beryl could see how stunned he was when the crowd began to enthusiastically shout the appropriate response back, tidbits of tension beginning to ease off his shoulders as a welcoming audience greeted them.
But, not that many would be able to tell, he did look to be in shock. The band director couldn't begin to guess why, she could only watch in relief as Elsie smoothly took hold of the microphone as though it were planned.
"I must say: it is a pleasure for us both to be on this stage and officially welcome you all to the 115th chorale concert at Downton Academy!" The redhead grinned at the fervent excitement from the crowd, throwing in her own approving whistle that the two were on the stage together.
When Elsie's eyes discreetly glanced in her direction, her grin only expanded –– hints of a pleased smirk slipping in.
Needless to say, she would be teasing them about this for as long as she could.
Eventually, the audience quieted out of respect to the individuals on stage. Only when the sound reached a solid pianissimo did the pair continue –– easily going back and forth as they explained how this night differed from their normal concerts. They went on to express their gratuity to the bands and orchestras of Downton Academy for working alongside them for tonight's show. This was in addition to the Yorkshire faculty and students who would be performing tonight with them tonight.
Speaking of, Beryl had noticed that a certain diva hadn't been loitering around backstage. Why Alice Neal wasn't dignifying them with her presence escaped her. But she found she didn't need a reason –– thoroughly enjoying the lack of drama.
"And, now, ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Carson beamed, gesturing out into the auditorium before bringing his attention to the soloists backstage, "Please join us in giving a warm applause to the choirs of Downton as they perform "Seasons of Love" from Rent."
Everyone did just that, cheering as the house lights began to dim once more and bathe the audience with anticipation.
This was the cue for Beryl to furtively get the soloists walking toward their spots.
Reeling back in a sense of professionalism, the woman quietly informed the three students that it was time to walk on and go be amazing. She continued to look on as they walked past her, excitement holding her attention as Isabel, Robert, and Alyssa brushed past myrtle green curtains to take their places on the stage.
Only once they were situated did three spotlights snap to life, directed right at each individual.
It was time for the show to begin.
_._
7:43 p.m
"Seasons of Love" had been amazing. Molly had literally gotten goosebumps even as she sang, the Bel Canto soprano loving every second of it. And now it'd be her choir's turn to perform, just as soon as Treble wrapped up "When I Grow Up" from Matilda.
"When I grow up," "Just because you find that life's not fair
It doesn't mean that you just have to grin and bear it."
Annie Mattis was not a name Molly had come to know during her time at Downton. But the budding Treble singer was proving just why she deserved to be known –– doing great justice to her solo.
"If you always take it on the chin and wear it,
Nothing will change."
Yeah, the auditorium had gotten really dusty. That was the only reason why Molly's eyes were beginning to well up.
"When I grow up," "Just because I find myself in this story,
Doesn't mean that everything is written for me."
She really needed to focus on the fact that she was dressed like an American in what was called the "Old West". It wasn't really the "Old West", she knew that. But she liked to think it was. And if she didn't focus on her attire, she would get tear-stains all over her plaid top and then she wouldn't be able to concentrate.
"If I think the ending is fixed already,
I might as well be saying I think that it's okay.
And that's not right!"
Okay. She'd totally joined in on the applause even though they're never supposed to make any noise backstage. But there was a silver lining! Seeing as how Mrs. Hughes was also proudly clapping for Treble, Molly figured it was all right to join in!
The light darkened in seconds, the Treble Choir cheerfully getting off stage. Some of the girls even curtseyed mid-step, bouncing along happily to the sound of the audience's support. And now it would be Bel Canto's turn to do as good of a job.
But how could they possibly follow an act like that?
Molly tried to block out her anxiety as her cowboy boots clicked-clacked across the stage, taking her spot just like everyone else. Mr. Ross, the choreographer nearly every girl had a crush on, herself included, had instructed them to take up space on the stage. To chill on the risers, stand in the pockets of space, sit on the edge of the stage –– to be wherever they liked in the beginning.
Except she had been told to stand center-stage.
Because, just as she'd hoped all those weeks ago, she finally gotten that solo.
The lights went on and she couldn't stop grinning, listening in to the staged conversation that would start off the song.
"If only I could find a guy who'd make the first move!" Thea Evans complained to everyone watching, causing her to nod in understanding.
"If only I could find a guy who, when he went to kiss me goodnight, would take the toothpick out of his mouth!" Maribel Diaz had been given this particular grievance to air, managing to deliver it well enough the audience gave a proper laugh.
"If only I could find a guy…."
When the audience knowingly chuckled at Olivia's dejected response, Molly knew this was going to go well. It was just a matter of doing her part as best as she could.
"Where have all the good men gone," She began to ask everyone, her energy infectious, "And where are all the gods?"
She didn't have to close her eyes to imagine being back in her kitchen, dancing along with her mum to Bonnie Tyler's voice.
"Where's the streetwise Hercules
Who fights the rising odds?"
It was wonderful to see her friends start to chime in, "I'd like to know!"
"Isn't there a white-knight upon a fiery steed?" The mezzo-soprano was definitely nervous. It wasn't as smooth sounding as when she'd practiced in front of the mirror. But she was bringing her mind back to that kitchen in seconds. "Late at night I toss and I turn!"
"I toss and I turn! Ooh,"
Beaming right at her mum, knowing where she was in the audience and knowing she'd be proud no matter what, "And I dream of what I need."
She took a breath for herself. Took precious seconds to relish the last of her first solo.
"I need a hero!"
_._
7:49 p.m.
"So."
As much as John Drake appreciated being just another member of the choir, he did like his solo.
"If you ever want something
And you call, call,
Then I'll come running."
His voice was not the grandest of the lot, he knew that. Maybe if Matthew or Thomas hadn't already gotten solos, they'd be standing here instead of him. But he liked being here. And he was glad he'd been given the chance.
"To fight.
And I'll be at your door.
When there's nothing worth fighting for."
It was a gentle applause that embraced John as he slipped back into the choir, letting the building emotions start to envelope him one last time.
"When your mind's made up!
When your mind's made up!
There's no point in trying to change it."
"Once" was an interesting musical. One he found he liked the sound of.
"When your mind's made up!" They were rising again, reverberating between forte and fortissimo. Swaying with regret and a hypnotic pain, "When your mind's up, there's no point in even talking!"
Their voices rang back and forth, following through on the repeat and crescendoing straight on through to his favourite part of the medley.
"And if a door be closed!" He briefly closed his eyes, wanting only the sensation of that harmony to wash over him. "And a row of homes start building,"
"And tear your curtains down!
For sunlight is like gold."
He could feel that warmth again, the kind that only came when everything was okay.
"And you better be you
And do what you can do."
John knew his part didn't make sense by itself. The baritone was the opposite of melody most of the time, it filled in the cracks left behind by the other pieces.
"When you're walking on moonbeams,
And staring out to sea."
But when he could hear everything at once, when every part came together at last, it was fantastic! To hear those beautiful lyrics echoed once more, to catch the subtle differences each time… he would happily do this for as long as he could.
"And I loved her so.
I wouldn't trade her for
Gold."
_._
7:52 p.m.
When the lights snapped back on, the world was greeted with a peculiar sight. Harold Lowe stood as far he could toward the left side of the audience. The teenager was warmly smiling into the crowd, dressed in the distinguished choral attire for the male singers: the traditional tux and black bowtie.
Everyone else, however, was dressed for an entirely different occasion.
Charlotte Williams was dejectedly sat on the floor, a rag in her hand as she looked forlornly off into the distance. Dressed in what looked to hand-me-downs from another era, she was the closest to Harold, a plateau of wistfulness and grief.
William Mason was only a few feet away from her, sitting on a stool center-stage, accompanied by what appeared to a withered down plastic cow. He, too, looked as though all his dreams were slowly being crushed in front of him.
As for the couple to William's left, Charles Blake and Laura Edmunds looked entirely at odds with each other. Blake stood hunched over a plate while Edmunds continued to hold a position of frustration focused away from him.
There were no signs of happiness. Nothing to demonstrate why this particular medley should be considered a fairytale –– at least, in the modern-day, Disney sense. And it was only when these sights of despair truly sank into the audience did Harold begin.
"Once upon a time," Lowe grandly began, gesturing to his immediate left, to Charlotte.
"I wish," Her lyrics cried to the audience, the rag methodically cleaning the floor as she focused on her task –– brought back to life by his words.
"In a far off kingdom," "More than anything,"
"Lived a fair maiden," "More than life!"
"A sad young lad," "More than jewels!"
"I wish!" It was William's turn to enter the fray, the young lad fraught with worry as he rested a hand on his cow's back.
"And a childish baker," "More than life," "I wish."
"With his wife." "More than anything," "More than the moon!" "I wish."
"The king is giving a festival!" Charlotte played the role of Cinderella dutifully, the soprano's voice caressing each and every hopeful sentiment in the lyrics.
"More than life!"
She carried on, perfectly oblivious to her other companions on stage, "I wish to go to the festival,"
"More than riches!"
Her rag lay forgotten in her hands for a brief spell, "And the ball!"
It was William's turn to take on the wish of his character, Jack, and express it to the crowd: "I wish my cow would give us some milk!"
"More than anything!"
But it was Laura's outcry as the Baker's Wife that stretched out past the others, "I wish we had a child, I want a child!"
"I wish to go to the festival," "I wish you'd give us some milk or even cheese," "I wish we had a child,"
The sprightly tune picked up in pace, moving once more into an empowering crescendo as all four individuals began to rise to their feet. It was time for them to begin their respective journeys in this disenchanting collection of fairytales.
"Into the woods, it's time to go,
It may be all in vain you know,"
Cinderella was pushing herself onto her feet, determinedly standing up as she pocketed the rag at last. Jack looked at his little cow with great sympathy but knew what had to be done. The Baker and his Wife nodded at one another at their task –– resolved when it came to what had to be done.
"Into the woods, but even so,
I have to take the journey!"
_._
7:58 p.m.
"Someone is on your side," "Our side," "Our side,"
If only Mary believed that. This last week had proven to be rather informative when it came to who was actually on her side.
"Someone else is not."
That seemed a more accurate description for her friendships as of late. Even Charles, much as she didn't want to admit, faded a little. They'd had more of a talk after class on Monday, but it hadn't led to much. Only more confusion for both of them.
"While we're seeing our side," "Our side," "Our side,"
"Maybe we've forgot."
Mary tilted her head, hearing an intention in those lyrics that she'd not felt before. Looking out into the stage, her ears were concentrating on understanding that difference. On recognizing who was singing with different intentions and figuring out why –– if only because it was different and would distract her for a few seconds.
"They are not alone,
No one is alone,"
It wasn't Charlotte. The fellow soprano was excellent at playing the role of Cinderella, but her voice had always carried purpose. Her inflections, though tinted with some nerves, remained fairly confident.
"Hard to see the light now,
Just don't let it go,"
Daisy and William weren't singing right now. Their characters, Little Red Riding Hood and Jack, were letting Cinderella and The Baker comfort them with a soothing reminder–– oh.
"Things will come out right now,
We can make it so."
If she didn't know better, it was almost as though Charles Blake was speaking directly to her.
"Someone is on your side.
No one is alone."
Blinking back the endless confusion, straightening out her purple gown, Mary presented herself with a regal air as she stepped out of the backstage area and back toward the others. She let the instruments guide her step, finding it easy to follow the key change that would lead to her solo.
"Careful the things you say,
Children will listen."
She may have been looking out to everyone on stage, turning her gaze out toward the audience, but she was speaking to him.
"Careful the things you do,
Children will see and learn."
She didn't have an answer for her behaviour over the last week. She didn't know why she'd encouraged Rose to post that stupid recording, why she couldn't just talk to Charles, nothing.
"Children may not obey,
But children will listen."
And judging from his eyes, he understood. Understood and was willing to set aside his own bewilderment to keep talking.
"Children will look to you," "To you,"
"For which way to turn,
To learn what to be."
Her tone flourished, the soprano knowing how to take control over her sound without it being forced. Dynamic changes, emphasis, climbing into forte, she knew it all well.
"Careful before you say,
'Listen to me'."
It was this whole term she was still figuring out. Her feelings, her decisions, all of it.
"Children will listen!"
_._
8:02 p.m.
Septimus couldn't look at the crowd. Ironically, he didn't have the guts to interact with his audience as much as Mary probably would've. Maybe it was proof that he wasn't supposed to be a soloist, despite what everyone else seemed to think.
"I'd be the first one to agree
That I'm preoccupied with me."
He heard Gladys give a hushed snort at that even though she had tucked herself away in the wings. She'd heard him sing that part many times and she always thought it too fitting.
"And it's inbred, kid,
So keep your head, kid."
Mack and Mabel was not a happy musical. Not the original, at least. The characters weren't terribly likeable, most of the music delved into depressing more often than not, and he still found this to be a simple and breathtaking song.
"In me you'll find things
Like guts and nerve.
But not the kind things
That you deserve!"
He gave himself over to the pain of the song, the regret so tightly embedded in the piece. As a bass, it had been a challenge to reach those higher notes and he took that challenge as a chance to let the emotions pour out. To show that his character wasn't as composed as he pretended to be.
"And, so, while there's a fighting chance,
Just turn and go!"
Standing here on the stage had been petrifying for the first thirty seconds. Still was a bit petrifying, even minutes into the song. But if this happened to be his only solo at Downton, he would do his best to hold out all the notes he could and take in the fact that he'd surpassed his own expectations. That he'd somehow wound up as the highest male soloist this year, and for some reason he had been given this chance to be on the stage.
"I won't send roses."
Septimus paused, acknowledging the chance he had before him. He didn't look at the audience, didn't want to find himself disappointed if they weren't as taken with the song. He just needed to drink in the heat of the spotlights, the fact that he really was here, and that –– for the roller coaster he'd just experienced –– it had been brilliant.
"And roses suit you so."
He continued to stand in the silence, wanting to hold onto this for as long as he could. It was beginning to hit him that this was the moment of truth, this was the time where the audience would show how well or poorly he did. He figured it could go in any direction, seeing as how Mack and Mabel wasn't exactly as well known as Cats.
In seconds, he had his answer.
They were applauding! Fervently! For him! He wasn't one of many in the bass section, he wasn't hiding behind a computer screen, this was all him!
Except for his accompaniment, of course!
Gesturing to Miss Vance, who was sat at the stage piano in the orchestra pit, Septimus remembered that he was supposed to bow after an applause. He did that, bowled over by the continued adoration that rose out of the crowd before him. Actually, he froze after the bow, smiling as though that would magically whisk him off the stage so the next act could go on.
"Nice job. Try to breathe if you can."
Oh. That's right.
I'm in the next song.
But, how–– when did Gladys arrive?
Septimus blinked, realizing that the a cappella choir had already started filing on stage, getting ready to put on "Blue Skies". And not only were his friends filing on stage around him, they continued to applaud him alongside the audience as all singers stepped into their positions.
If he was dreaming, he didn't want to wake up anytime soon.
_._
8:10 p.m
"I only know when he began to dance with me."
Penelope Carlisle eyed the "Bel Canto" choir from the backstage, critically studying the thirty or so singers. It had become habit for her ears to catch all strains of noise –– from weak breath support to overly dark vowels and poor placement.
"I could have danced, danced,
Danced,"
And what surprised her most of all was that she didn't really hear any of that at Downton. That wasn't to say the school was the best she'd ever come across. None of the choirs, except maybe their "Concert Choir", were near a professional, let alone collegiate, level of performance. But given their ages and probable lack of experience, they weren't making as many mistakes as she'd expected.
"All night!"
Truthfully, the soprano figured she was going soft.
She also figured that it didn't really matter, seeing as her octet was seconds away from performing and she was finally getting a chance to show off her gem of a dress. Mirrored after Ethel Merman's pink gown from all those years ago, she would take pride in showing off her status as the lead female singer for the octet. Especially if it meant that she didn't have to sport that crimson thing Mary was currently wearing––
Oh, stop.
Penelope was tired of being petty. She wasn't going to ever be friends with Mary, true. But they'd just planned and executed a fairly deviant plot. It was infinitely kinder than what she had personally wanted to do, but deviant.
After something like that, the least she could do was respect the girl. And silently watch as Bel Canto shuffled off the other side of the stage, almost all singers beaming with joy at the continuing applause. And, yes, she would acknowledge the fact that they were a decent choir by not mockingly referring to them as "Bel Canto".
Okay. Now she was confusing herself.
Shaking her head, dismissing all the peculiar thoughts of the last five minutes, Penelope watched on as the audience quieted down. Smirking to herself, she could feel the confusion begin to emanate from the house seats: just where was the next act?
Well, the octet and their teachers had agreed it would be fitting for a group calling themselves The Exception to have an atypical entrance. Thus, it was only when Miss Miller gave the signal that they would begin their set.
The young soprano watched her instructor observe the crowd from backstage, expertly drawing out the suspense. Murmurs were beginning to break out, eyes drawn to spotlights running on an empty stage. Only once there was a crescendo of curiosity did the woman cue Connor blow the appropriate pitch from his pitch-pipe, signaling to Matthew that he could begin whenever he wanted to.
Her smirk blossomed, enjoying the thought of this entrance. It should have been stupid to be caught up in something so childish –– she could already hear her father's criticism over the situation –– but Penelope rarely got the chance to have fun with performing. Not like this.
This was going to be fun, she already knew it.
If she was being honest, it was already much more fun than she ever anticipated.
"I hear singing and there's no one there." Matthew was slowly wandering across the stage, looking so very, very lost. "I smell blossoms and the trees are bare."
David soon joined him from the other side, a beautiful harmony breaking out between bass and lead as the two began to contemplate their feelings, "All day long I seem to walk on air,"
"I wonder why," Thomas and Connor had gradually made their way to the pair, having been sure to come from different directions. They'd agreed it was best to throw the audience off-guard, just like how their character was supposed to be. "I wonder why."
"I keep tossing in my sleep at night,
And what's more I've lost my appetite."
The quartet softly formed in the center, but there was still something missing.
Something lacked in their voices, something she was sure even the audience could detect.
"Stars that used to twinkle in the skies
Are twinkling in my eyes.
I wonder why."
There was an orderliness to the four young ladies as they each stepped out into the openness of the stage. Each was well-positioned to reach out to her counterpart, ready to step up and confidently clear the whole mess up.
"You don't need analyzing!
It's not so surprising
That you feel very strange but nice!"
The girls were balanced in tone, quite possibly their best start.
"Your heart goes pitter-patter,
I know just what's the matter,
Because I've been there once or twice."
Maybe they should do this sort of thing more often. They'd certainly come a long way from their first rehearsal, where everyone had been aloof and unsure.
"Put your hand on my shoulder,
You need someone who's older,
A rub down with a velvet glove!"
Four voices melded together as their respective counterparts listened to the musical advice, as though they were all friends who'd known each other for years. As though this wasn't their first show together, but they'd long since learnt everyone's vocal modulations and quirks.
"There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache.
You're not sick, you're just in love!"
And when the octet finally came together as one, eight individuals blended their personalities into one sound. And it all rang so beautifully she was stunned.
The soprano was too well-trained to reveal it, but she was stunned.
_._
8:19 p.m.
"Walk on," "Walk on through the wind,"
"Walk on," "Walk on through the rain."
"Though your dreams be tossed and blown."
Andy Parker certainly felt like his dreams were being tossed around! Watching the Bass Choir belt out the last part of their bit for Act I, he knew he was only minutes away from his solo in Les Mis. That his family was in the crowd, having been waiting for "One Day More" all night. That he'd be so humiliated if it all went wrong now.
"Walk on, walk on,
With hope in your heart.
And you'll never walk alone."
He really couldn't bring himself to trust the sentiment, frustratingly so.
"You'll never walk
Alone!"
Andy was a little relieved Bass Choir had taken to risers for this because it meant they'd all be taking extra time when getting off the stage. Which meant he had a little more time to try to remember his lyrics and try not to panic and think of all the ways this could go wrong.
"Remember my friend, Andy Parker?" Her lips were on his cheek before he realized what happened, the tenor gaping at the warmth now caressing him. "He really is rather brilliant, I'll have you know. You should try to catch his performance when he goes on in a bit."
"Ellie," But she was already making her way to her own spot backstage, beaming as she did so. He couldn't help a blush, all nerves gone as he lifted a hand to his cheek, trying his best to recall the sensation. Still, he had to try to whisper to her, if only because he didn't want her to think he was insulted or that she should never do that again: "You're brilliant."
He could hear her own blush from where he stood, forgetting everything else. The applause in the distance, his solo in Les Mis, nothing mattered except realizing what had just happened.
"One day more."
When had John started singing? How had he missed the instruments starting to play?
"Another day, another destiny." Bates was indeed center-stage, resolved as ever. Andy had known he would make a good Valjean ever since he saw the baritone's name on the callbacks list. But he loved having that proved over and over again, today especially."This never-ending road to cavalry. These men who seem to know my crime will surely come a second time! One day more."
And there was Aaron, somehow managing to have quickly changed out of his tuxedo and into his costume for Marius.
"I did not live until today,
How can I live when we are parted?"
And there was Ellie.
"One day more."
Singing right at Aaron even though her eyes drifted in his direction just once.
But once was more than enough.
"Tomorrow you'll be worlds away.
And yet with you my world has started."
How true that was.
"One more day all on my own!" Andy had completely forgotten about Ruby taking on the role of Eponine. He really shouldn't have, considering how often they'd all rehearsed, but he absolutely did.
"Will we ever meet again?" "One more day with him not caring!"
"I was born to be with you." "What a life I might've known."
"And I swear I will be true." "But he never saw me there!"
It was absolutely the time for Andy to join the others on stage, to demand Marius and others join him in this revolution –– something he had almost forgotten!
"One more day before the storm!" "Do I follow where she goes?"
Please, please, please don't mess this up. His nerves were obvious, but it was less from stage-fright and more from actually forgetting his solo for a second.
"At the barricade of freedom!" "Shall I join my brothers there?"
He couldn't help but steal a glance in her direction, finally understanding what Mrs. Hughes had meant when she'd repeatedly told him to "make the butterflies fly in formation". It really wasn't about getting rid of nerves or pretending to be fine. It was only about taking all of that energy and channeling it into something, building off of it.
"When our ranks begin to form," "Do I stay or do I dare?"
"Will you take your place with me?"
All of the other choirs began to do just that: take their places and fill the auditorium with as much energy as they could.
"The time is now,
The day is here!"
And though he still had minutes of singing to get through, Andy knew it would all work out.
"One day more!"
_._
8:26 p.m.
It was with a mixture of gleeful exuberance that Elsie fiercely applauded for the choirs, cheering as "One Day More" came to a triumphant end. They hadn't needed anyone to conduct for almost the entire show, shining as capable musicians throughout the whole last hour. Truly, they had all done an amazing job throughout all of Act I and she couldn't be prouder!
"Ready?"
She turned to her future husband, arching an eyebrow in response.
"What do you think?"
If only she could remember what felt different about today, what seemed to be missing.
But before anymore thoughts could declare themselves, his lips were on hers and she remembered the priorities in life –– pleased they could have this moment.
If only the interruptions weren't inevitable.
"Mrs. Hughes! Have you seen my costume for '42nd Street'?"
It didn't make sense as to why she would've seen Jimmy's outfit in the midst of this performance. But, sighing to herself, she sent Charles an apologetic smile. When that didn't help to ease his frustration, she rose to her tiptoes and softly reminded him of one final thing:
Interruptions were only fermatas in the grand scheme, not the whole song.
_._
Author's Note: Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes Act I! Sunday Night, Act II!
And, if you're interested in the other song that weren't "sung" in the first half of the show, here they are!
"Seasons of Love" / Rent / "Seasons of Love (SATB Choir) - Arranged by Roger Emerson"
"Blue Skies" / Betsy / "Cal Jazz Choir 'Blue Skies' - West Coast A Cappella Fall 2014"
"Embraceable You" / Crazy for You / "Embraceable You - Multitrack - A Cappella"
In any case, I hope you enjoyed today's chapter! Cya in just a few days!